Poetry
by bearsbeetsbattlestargalactica
Summary: A short collection of poems written for the ToG characters.


**A/N: Here are some 2 am poetry scribbles. I had the idea awhile back that I wanted to do ToG poetry (why, I don't know), and I just kind of took a few characters from the series and wrote them poems. Here are a few that I came up with and actually liked. If you have other characters that you'd like me to write a poem for, either PM me or leave a review. So far, I've done Celaena, Sam, Arobynn, Manon, Chaol, and Rowan. If you'd like me to write another poem for them, too, just let me know! ;)**

 **Anyway, here are some unique (I hope) takes on ToG characters, so enjoy!**

* * *

For Celaena

Untitled

I have not titled this poem because

it is a no-name, just like me.

I collect names the way other people collect

coins, or stamps, or stars.

I am a living museum of masks:

if you look closely you can see

the glitter on my cheek,

the lipstick on my teeth,

the ribbon wound round my thumb.

It trails in the breeze.

For Sam

Where the Red Roses Bloom

I have been waiting for you on this window-ledge

where the red roses bloom for a long, long time,

and I will wait for you longer still.

I will wait for you while the petals wither and drift

to the mossy slick stones, while the roses

become skeletons of thorny daggers.

I know enough to know that you are extraordinary

and worth wilting for, and so I will give up

blood, and bone, and blessings, because

despite what you may believe, you're worth it.

The roses have shriveled, charred whispers and hints of red.

But I will wait longer still: We have all the time in the world.

For Arobynn

In the Form of a Letter

To Arobynn Hamel:

You were never supposed to love me. Not like that.

You were never supposed to want to rake your nails

down my skin and make me beg, you were never

supposed to make me weep and call out your name

in that way, in that voice, like that.

You were never supposed to have me at all.

So fuck you, sir, for the thing that you have made me into.

Fuck you, sir, for the chains you've wrapped around my heart.

You saw me and you took me without considering that perhaps

I was not yours to be had, not ripe for the taking at all,

and the finders-keepers law does not apply to me.

Not a chance in burning hell.

So fuck you, sir, for all the tears and heartache and sorrow

and whiplash that you have caused me.

Before my days have dwindled from dusk to dawn,

I will say these words to your face, and I will remind you

of every wrong thing you wanted about me but could not have.

Sincerely,

Aelin Ashryver Galathynius

For Manon

I Will Take Your Body Back to the Cabin

I will take your body back to the cabin

after the sun goes down, and I will lay you

by your lover in the earth.

I will fetch flowers from the woods and spread them

overtop your freshly turned grave,

and murmur a prayer to the maiden,

the matron, the crone, so that you might

shine still from the stars, imprisoned

in constellation.

That I do not care is a lie I feed my weak heart.

That I am unfeeling is a falsehood you know well.

That you should choose to die for me is foolish,

because I am not worth the noose around your neck,

the tendrils braided into the rope,

and I will fall on my own sword before I allow you to

offer something so precious, worth so much

for something worth so very little.

It is not time-not yet-

for you to sink below the earth,

seeping through layers of moss and decay, brittle

and fragile as crushed magnolia blossoms.

But it is my time, my turn

to lay down my life for those who would so unthinkingly

do the same.

When the steel of the knife does kiss

my scarred, raw, twisted skin,

when I do at last meet death

as I should have long ago,

when my heart thuds to nothing and fades

as the night sky bleeding into noon,

I have but one request.

Tell the princeling that he is beautiful

in the way that matters most, and

that despite the girl with the hands

like golden doves, he is worthy.

Tell the servant that she is broken,

but that does not mean that she is not strong,

and to perhaps consider that her queen

is undeserving of her service,

not the other way around.

Tell the rest-as their number dwindles to twelve-

that I do this not for me but for them, because

it is time that I settle the debts long-owed,

breathing and writhing in my unbeating heart.

For perhaps the first time in my long, melancholy life,

my blood bleeds blue.

—

But should you fall before I do,

should you tumble down

the mountainside,

I will take your body

back to the cabin,

and lay you beside your

still, slumbering lover,

so that you may be unlucky enough

to know love again.

For Chaol

Honor

I thought I knew what I stood for:

then again, I thought I knew where to stand.

When the cold rain starts to pour

I drift away, far from shore, far from land.

For Rowan

Blown Glass

you shatter me and i shatter you:

we are a symphony of breaking glass.

we glitter as we fall to the floor

and we weep as we break.

we are fragile things, you and i,

not nearly as thick and durable

as we seem from a bird's eye view.

just because we can rattle the stars

does not mean we cannot be rattled back.

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts? Suggestions? Poetry desires? Leave a review and let me know! ;)**


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